


Hearth

by Ya_dun_goofed



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Fluff, Gore, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 03:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17072258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ya_dun_goofed/pseuds/Ya_dun_goofed
Summary: Garruk finds a Jace-cicle, Garruk kisses the unfrozen Jace-cicle.





	1. Barren

The people of Innistrad held strange beliefs about the cold. That it could leech off any good feeling ever felt, and that the cold itself is the jealous rage of stronger spirits that haunt the land. Jace trembled in the saddle of his horse, in a spiral of his own cruel thoughts.  


“F-fuck. Her.” He muttered, eyes almost closed from the cold winds threatening to freeze them.  


“Wh…. Wh-y would…. Would she just…. Do THAT?” The last word erupted from his chapped lips and he pulled his cloak tighter around himself. His scattered thoughts tried to recall what exactly she did to piss him off.  


It was….  


It… was…  


“Fu-ck it. She’s d-dead to me now.” He whined. Though, his mind taunted him the numerous other times he would mutter the same words, only to crawl back, bringing himself back to stewing in his hatred for her and countless other things that included himself.

Just as his mind roiled to itself his perspective of the faint horizon changed. The sparse view of his surroundings were replaced with the wall of white hitting him so hard he gasps. It takes him a moment to adjust to his new surroundings on the ground. Crawling up and out of the thick layer of snow, he stared at his dying horse numbly. Its breathing was slow and its eyes were frozen solid in a glass-like stare. He thought he could see his own violently shivering form in them, and fear stirred.  


“I n-need t-to get out.”  
He turned away as quickly as he could and shuffled on, pulling his cloak tighter around himself. However, he barely made it much farther then his mount. His walking and breathing slowed so much so that he collapsed, feeling the siren’s call of unconsciousness sing in his fatigued mind.  
As his vision grew hazy and his mind succumbed, his eyes caught a glimmer of a lantern. 

 

A hunter trudged through. Heavy foot steps plunging deep into the snow and carrying his mountain of a form through with the grace of an iceberg on water. His eyes were obscured by his helm but they darted around to catch sight of his target. Following the deep path made by his large prey, it didn’t take long to notice what it too was stalking.  


‘A horse?’ He thinks. A ribbon of blue fabric stands out from its perched on a bristling dead branch.  


‘No. A horse and its rider.’  
He keeps trudging after it until he finds the resulting scene. The sounds reach him first far before the sight does- The crunch and squelch of a corpse feeding some large savage beast. Its noises of satisfaction as it gorges itself on a fresh kill of the cold is usually muffled, but his keen ears pick it up.  
Then he sees it. A werewolf his size hunched over a dark horse with its muzzle already buried in its exposed ribcage. Not much further off he can spot the equine’s rider curled up, likely dead and soon to be devoured by some other starving beast in this frozen nightmare of a plane. 

He drops all motive to kill the werewolf and instead walks to the body, careful enough not to disturb the other predator too much. The wolf’s ears prick up and there’s some pause to the carnage of its meal, but it continues without another beat wasted. The hunter raises his hand out to move the body to see its face better. Garruk’s hatred for humans has never faltered, never waned ever since they took his father and let him rot in a cell.  
But…. There was always an odd feeling that would rear its head when he would find corpses curled up and alone. The way those bodies would very visibly show the fear and uncertainty of whether they may or may not see the next sun before finding such answer.  
Those that died alone from the elements while travelling were departed from being human enough that he would feel drops of usually barren empathy. He recalled his own childhood huddling inside dead fallen trees and starving, both for warm food and a warm home. His eyes turn glassy as he traces his finger along the snow-white skin of the bodies jaw. A faint huff of air makes his eyebrows raise. 

‘So this man still grapples for life.’ He muses, rising to overshadow the person. The malice for humans comes back, surrounding his heart like a curtain of frost.  
“Then you shall lose.” Come the words spilling harshly from his own mouth. “For this is your final payment for the wilds you travel and pillage so freely in.” 

He takes one step away but hesitates, other foot hanging uncertainly in the air. How many countless times has he found those sad bodies alone in the wilds, dead, and feels an odd feeling of wonder at what would happen if he just averted its fate. ‘There’s a cabin up by the creeks bend with some supplies and a fireplace to keep warm. There’s plenty of food I can spare for the both of us…’ He begins to muse more and more up until he shakes his head violently to free those naïve thoughts. 

Taking another step, then hesitating again, he glances over at the body.  
“Just this once….” His voice murmurs, a secret kept to itself. 

As the werewolf drags the last of its meal to its dwellings, the giant of a man carries his own precious in the opposite direction.


	2. Question One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Jace but hes a disaster lmao

The heaviness of his eyelids was a blessing to his bruised mind. His body felt like it was made of stone and he began to wonder if he had died. ‘Where does a dead planeswalker’s soul rest?’ whispered a thought. Part of him hoped his soul drifted through the eternities, to rest where it calls home.  
Wherever exactly that may be.  
However, given his existence and the apparent rules of Innistrad, he would exist as a festering ghost, forever bitter of his past life choices and past loves.  
The creaking of floorboards filled his ears and yanked him from his train of thought. He sucked in a breath of air he didn’t know he had as this something approached. Something smooth pressed itself against his lips. Opening his eyes just barely, he could make out the vague shape of a bowl with something steaming in it.  
“Drink.” A quiet, commanding voice like the deep rumble of a dark cloud said. It nudged itself up against his lips again and he tilts his head to drink, hoping for the best. A delicious wave of savory broth washed over his parched mouth and his heart flutters from the rush. He slowly, painstakingly lifts his hand up to meet the hand holding his food and helps tipping it as he drinks the rest greedily. 

“Good. Your alive.” The voice responds and wipes away a drop that had dribbled down his chin which he didn’t know of. His skin blossoms from the contact of the stranger’s hand.  
Jace starts to feel sleepy from how full he is but he struggles to open his eyes more to take in this stranger’s face. He wants, no, needs to know who saved him. His eyes take in the shape of them first, then the details un-fuzz themselves as he sees the battered iron helmet with green embers of eyes staring at him, a beard of wild brown hair looks so soft to the touch he wants to stick his hand in it. Satisfied getting enough of an answer for now, Jace passes out. 

The next time he wakes up, he has enough energy to get up. Slowly, he props himself upwards and the thick blanket over his chest drops, exposing his thin body to the cold air. He squawks in surprise and crosses his arms over himself to hide, then realizes he can just hide it himself more effectively. With a soft inhale he draws up some illusion magic to give himself a soft cotton shirt.  
His head throbs from exerting its thawed-out self. The shirt, however, remains. He attempts to get up more but decides to curl up after nearly falling over. A wave of dizziness overcomes him and he sways in place. The fire crackling by him draws his attention and the dancing flames remind him of Chandra. As he muses where she might be, he hears a slight whoosh and turning his head presents familiar, half hidden face close to his.  
The yelp that comes out is high and brief. The others stoic face stares back and he gulps, trying to retain whatever dignity he had before.  


“Hello.” Jace says, tipping his chin up.  


“So you can speak as well.” That deep voice from before responds.  


“Yes I can.” He raises a brow, analyzing him carefully. “My name is Jace.” He reaches his hand out and the hunter stares at it blankly. Retreating his hand back, Jace looks at the fire. “So why did you save me?” Internally, Jace muttered ‘who paid you’ because who in their right mind would hunt him down and rescue him from the cold.  


How did the person hiring him knew he was out there dying in the snow?  


His next thought made him feel sick, ‘did Liliana really- ‘  


“I didn’t save you. I merely dragged you in and fed you.” The hunters voice pulls him back to the present. “Others call me Garruk.”  


“Well then… Garruk… Why did you drag me in here and feed me.” Jace presses flatly.  
Garruk gets up and checks the logs in the fireplace, “why does it matter? Would it please you if I changed my mind and cut you up instead?”  
Jace opens his mouth, then closes it. He chooses to stare at the man tending the fire instead until his eyes feel heavy again. The next time he wakes up he feels better rested and feels like he has the energy to get up and look around his new dwellings. Opening the door yielded a thick wall of snow that he promptly slams the door on, worrying it might collapse inside. The next thing he checks are the drawers and pantry. Surprisingly, they had an ample amount of food that didn’t look expired.  
With an excited gasp he plunges his arm into a spiderweb infested corner to retrieve a clear jar of dark, rich looking coffee grounds. He held it close to his heart and jumped excitedly in place “Now this is what I need!” A grin splits his chapped mouth, but he doesn’t care about the stinging it causes. His excitement doesn’t last long, expression turning stony he hears someone’s nearby.  
Looking behind him, he sees Garruk standing in the doorway, having walked through the wall of snow that blocked Jace inside. ‘He didn’t see all of that…. Did he?’ Jace’s posture tightens, and he coughs awkwardly. “This place is uh…. Well stocked.”  
If Garruk had anything to compare the little mage to, it would be a squirrel, with how the human sorted through the abandoned storage spaces. Seeing him do a little dance and nearly squeak with excitement at seeing… Whatever that is in the jar, made his heart skip. Some impulsive thought wanted him to steal more from nearby towns to hide for the little mage and keep that warm smile and joy. 

The sudden change in behavior and muttering of this “Jace” man was disappointing. Taking his silence as enough of an answer, the mage turned his attention to the prize. Watching the mage struggle with the jar he walks over slow and takes the weighty thing with both hands. The look he gives to Garruk is guarded but Garruk’s no fool, he knows his squirrel mage is concerned for his little prize. With little effort, his hands screw the jar open with a pop and the smell hits him. He hears the long inhale of the scent and his hands reach out to give the jar back.  


“What is this for?” Garruk asks, eyes focused on him.  


“The best drink in existence.” Jace holds the jar close to inhale deeply again. “The one thing I would absolutely die for.” While he keeps his face completely guarded Garruk can tell by the way his eyes squeeze shut and how his shoulders rise with the inhale that this meant…. A lot to him.  


“Is that so.” Garruk crosses his arms, plenty of fools are willing to die for anything. This powder wasn’t magic, it only smelled special.  
He felt perplexed over this fine dark powder that the other was so transfixed over, but it convinced him Jace was harmless and perhaps a bit dull for a human as well. 

“And how do you serve this….” He pauses, watching Jace move at a more accelerated pace to search for things.  


“Drink.” Jace answers back. “You cook it in a pot of hot water with that powder in a- ah ha!” He yanks out a stained finely threaded sack. “Then, you can add milk or sugar or whatever and drink it. The chances of that are slim to none though if this house holds only the bare necessities.” He would spare a glance out of the window but doesn’t bother as its just a thick wall of white like before.  


“What do you do with the powder after?” He asks.  


“Dump it, or maybe recycle since the supply here is limited. How long will be before I can safely leave?” Jace tosses some snow into the pot and sets it over the fire. His expression falls more visibly when he sees Garruks’ face. “I don’t care if you think this is crazy.”  
Garruk gets up silently. “I do think this is trivial and a waste but…” He looks down to scowl at his own scarred hand, “you are amusing.” The words feel like he’s coughed them out like an illness. It feels wrong in every way to give anything resembling weakness away. He sees the mages face sour. “Gee, thanks.”  


“Besides, we are both stuck here for two weeks. I would usually brave this weather and leave you but.” Garruk walks over to fuss over something. “This weather is unusual, haunted maybe. When I first tried to leave this place I could no longer see what was in front of me…. And then I found myself walking back here.” Soon, the ice in the pot melts to water, and when the water boils Jace tosses the baggie in and stirs.  


“Haunted weather huh? That’s certainly new.” 

As the time passes silently he chews on what he knows about the stranger. This man had to be half giant, for starters. No human in on Innistrad has reached the height this “Garruk” touches with ease. The living mountain of a man has to duck his head in every doorway. Occasionally, he glances over at the hunter treating the skin of some beast. ‘and that helmet’ He thinks, its style is unlike what any human here possesses. Part of him started to wonder what the helmet hid, what kind of face was being covered by the metal. Was he ruggedly handsome? Hideous and scarred (but still handsome)? Jace crossed one leg over the other casually. The glances grew longer until Garruk pauses his work and sighs.  


“You have questions.”  
Jace blinked, “yes. How about we take turns?”  


“No.” Garruk growls back. “I don’t care about who you are, you only get three.”  
Jace frowned more but looked down at his own pot, “and these will be answered honestly?”  


“Sure.”  
He gave it more thought and pulled out two mugs. He scoops the freshly brewed coffee into both mugs and sits by him, setting the bigger mug closer to Garruk. The hunter barely regards it and merely sniffs.  


“So… First question…” Jace bit his own lip, it was an educated guess to assume the hunter was from out-of-plane but it would still be a risk. “What plane are you from?”  


“Don’t care to know.”  
The answer makes tilt his head “that’s not an answer.”  
Garruk fixes his eyes on Jace and snorts “yes it is.”  


“No its not-“  


“It is whether you choose to accept it or not.” He presses, slamming his fist on the table. Their drinks shake but Jace doesn’t react, he’s used to the kind of anger the other possesses, the kind that is somehow devoid of emotion but holds the same energy. He can almost feel Tezzerets eyes burning into his back. Instead of pushing the other further, he takes a sip of his drink.  


“I don’t remember where I’m from.” Jace says, his voice even. He can see Garruk about to ask but then holding his tongue before forming the words. ‘He does care then’ a hushed voice in his mind whispers.  
As he sips his drink and stares at the weathered wood of the table, he realizes there has been game that has sprung while they are both trapped here. A dangerous game, yes but he was eager to play. If worst came to worst he will just fight his way out, being the strongest blue mage out there that he knows of.  
He just wonders what rewards await if he wins.

**Author's Note:**

> Hewwo and wewcome to my Gawwuk and Jace fic uwu


End file.
